No words can utter & no tongue can tell
When ploughs destroyd the green when groves of willows fell
There once was springs when daises silver studs
Like sheets of snow on every pasture spread
There once was summers when the crow flower buds
Like golden sunbeams brightest lustre shed
& trees grew once that shelterd lubins head
There once was brooks sweet wimpering down the vale
The brooks no more—king cup & daiseys fled
Their last falln tree the naked moors bewail
& scarce a bush is left around to tell the mournful tale
#poetry #environment
#honesty
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